Vrrrroooom—!
VROOOOM—!
VROOOOOOOM—!
The roar of an engine ripped through the wind and waves.
A rugged, golden figure thundered across the wrecked shoreline atop a brutal–looking ATV, then braked hard, skidding to a stop right in front of Ash.
"Boy~"
"I'm here!"
Lt. Surge swung off his savage–looking all-terrain bike, which was still belching hot white steam from its vents.
…That thing was absolutely illegally modified.
Not that anyone was going to say anything to him about it.
He yanked off his goggles.
Those sharp eyes, trained for reading battlefields, swept across the scene in a flash—
The frozen giant tentacle mid–swing.
The silent emerald presence hovering over the rock.
And Ash's group: tense, but unharmed.
"Tch…" Surge clicked his tongue, brows knitting as he read the mood in the air.
"So even the Arbiter's here…"
"That dumb hag Kin really knows how to drag crap to my doorstep."
"If she dies here, that's that."
"If she doesn't die…"
"Heh, heh, heh…"
His words were crude, but his movements were steady and controlled.
Any Trainer who'd reached the level of a Gym Leader was bound to brush up against the deeper powers of this world—
The so-called Legendary Pokémon.
The ones humans sometimes called "gods."
And among them, Zygarde was the one the League knew best.
Zygarde guarded order itself, which naturally overlapped with the League's stance.
But that was all.
It didn't mean humans and Zygarde were peers. Far from it.
All the League could really do was understand how Zygarde tended to act—and do their best to cooperate with that behavior.
And as a rational, painfully grounded, overworked corporate–drone of a god, Zygarde was fine with that arrangement.
Compared to all the other legendaries who were either asleep, wandering around for vibes, or simply not doing their jobs…
Zygarde was the one actually clocking in every day. With a good temper, at that.
Its only alignment wasn't "good" or "evil".
It was alignment itself. It was order.
Surge swung down from the bike. Raichu, Magnezone, Electrode, and the rest of his ace squad appeared behind him without a sound.
The crackling power crawling over their bodies made it clear they were in peak combat condition—yet they held back, not unleashing anything wild.
They could feel the rules saturating this space.
… Ash thought as he glanced at the Raichu at Surge's side.
The feeling it gave off was nothing like the one he'd just fought in the Gym.
"You brats did good. Didn't let it rampage all the way into the city." Surge lifted his hand in a broad wave, voice booming, solid and strangely reassuring.
"From here on, leave it to me."
He nodded to Ash, Misty, and Brock, then turned his gaze to the black rock and the glowing green figure resting there—like he was greeting an old coworker.
"I know the rules, Arbiter."
"Grudges belong to the ones who made 'em. Settling the score has to follow the book, right?"
The emerald Zygarde Cell pulsed faintly, as if in acknowledgement.
It hovered there, like an ancient law carved into the air itself—cold and impartial.
In truth, the League didn't understand everything about Zygarde.
But they did understand one thing: Zygarde followed the rules.
If you didn't break them, everything was negotiable.
In Zygarde's eyes… humans and Pokémon were the same kind of creature.
And even among Pokémon, there were countless species, countless sides.
So all beings were equal, judged by the same standard.
At that moment—
The giant Tentacruel roared again.
But this time, the sound wasn't just wild rage.
It was heavy, ancient, carrying a resonance like a dragon's roar rolling through the seabed.
It was a voice echoing directly in everyone's mind, using the Tentacruel's body as a mouthpiece:
"Human… Gym Leader…"
The timbre was unmistakable—
Giant Dragonite.
"The ocean's cries… the extension of my power… have stated their grievance."
"The Arbiter has arrived."
"The rules are as follows—"
"This boundary shall be the battlefield."
"You, Gym Leader, stand as the representative of humanity's will and strength."
"It, bearing resentment and the sea's wrath, stands as the ocean's counterattack."
"One battle will decide it."
"If you win, they will withdraw, seek a new home, and this matter ends here."
"If it wins, this stretch of coastline… shall belong to its kind. Humans will never again set foot here."
"Is this fair or not?"
Giant Dragonite's voice, channeled through the Tentacruel, carried undeniable authority.
It was as if it stood in a courtroom Zygarde had erected from pure law, acting as both the accuser and witness.
Normally, as one of the Sea Kings, it did step in to maintain the balance between humanity and ocean Pokémon—
But it had little interest in talking to humans.
Honestly, this incident shouldn't have even drawn its eye.
If it weren't for the fact that this region's seawater had already been infused with its power…
The Tentacool and Tentacruel's howling resentment had brushed against that power.
And that, in turn, had tugged at its attention.
And this time, it had gotten interested—Giant Dragonite had spotted a familiar trio among the chaos.
Ash and his friends.
How convenient.
Surge bared his teeth in a grin, wild and deadly serious at the same time.
He rolled his neck, vertebrae popping like gunshots.
"Fair?"
"It's so damn fair it's making me happy."
"This beats arguing with idiots any day!"
Surge stepped forward. Muscles bulged beneath his camo vest.
"Lt. Surge, Vermilion Gym Leader—accepts your terms!"
Honestly, with Surge's strength, he could have just tried to flatten the giant Tentacruel outright.
He might even have been able to take out that Zygarde Cell.
But nobody in their right mind would do that.
Crushing one little piece of a god was easy.
Then what?
What if the real thing showed up afterward?
Just lie down and wait for death?
You'd probably hear Yu-Gi-Oh's classic BGM—"Wrath of the Gods"—kicking in.
Then some colossal figure would descend from the heavens and drop a single divine punch.
Game Over.
Sure, Zygarde's "home turf" was technically Kalos and Alola.
It didn't normally leave those regions. That was where it really lived. The rest of the world was just coworker coverage.
But considering how deep into corporate overtime it already was…
If something happened that one of its Cells couldn't handle, wasn't it normal for it to ping the local god?
And if the local god couldn't be bothered?
Well, then Zygarde wouldn't bother either.
It's not like the others could split themselves into a million little Cells to monitor entire ecosystems.
If someone else is willing to do the work for free, who's going to volunteer to work overtime?
Surge barked over his shoulder:
"Kids! Fall back past the safety line!"
"Clear the field and let me and this big guy dance!"
"This is Gym Leader business now!"
He was honestly kind of fired up.
At his level, he rarely got to go all out.
Part of it was duty—he couldn't just run around causing trouble outside his city.
The other part was pure practicality—if he fought at full force too often, he could wreck the environment around him.
Like dropping a nuke in your own backyard.
What would be the point?
A big chunk of a city's benefits flowed to its Gym Leader, after all.
The League gave Gym Leaders wealth and power precisely so they wouldn't torch their own nest.
Instead of trying to restrain them with "ideals" and "justice", the League's founders had chosen a different leash:
Power. And profit.
—You might not care about justice or lofty ideals.
—But no one with a working brain is going to burn their own interests.
—You might betray a class.
—But you won't betray yourself.
Ash immediately dragged Misty and Brock backward.
Misty looked anxiously up at the towering behemoth.
Brock, calm as ever, murmured, "Trust Lt. Surge. This is what a Gym Leader exists for."
Surge and the colossal Tentacruel faced off.
On one side: the pinnacle of human combat power in this region.
On the other: the avatar of nature's fury and divine might.
Judgment had been passed.
The fight was about to begin.
And the stakes…
Were the future of this coast.
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